Seasons
by plantface
Summary: Dean and Cas were childhood friends. But they are soon separated for 18 years before they reunite through a series of improbable events.
1. Chapter 1

The air was rich with humidity on this particular autumn afternoon as Dean Winchester rode his bike home from school alone. The sun had begun to go down over the west horizon, everything appearing even more burnt and orange than usual. The streets were vacant, eerie even had Dean paid enough attention. His bag swung in motion to his pedalling on his back, making the fabric create a slight humming sound. A car drove past him as he pulled into his drive way, his father's 67' Chevy Impala stationary in the open garage. Dean parked his bike safely inside the garage and walked to the back of his house before opening the door and finding his younger brother, Sam, asleep on the couch in the living room.

"Sammy! Rise and shine!" Dean practically chimed, watching Sam all but jump off the couch.

"Dean?" Sam squeaked, rubbing his eyes methodically.

"Where's dad, Sam?"

"Uh. I think he's asleep?" Sam blinked rapidly then sat back down on the couch before grabbing the remote and turning on the television.

* * *

Dean smiled at his brother when he was sure Sam wouldn't see and then he left again back through the door in which he had just entered. He rounded the house, leaving his bike and headed towards the road. The made a right turn as his small boots met the concrete sidewalk and called out a familiar name.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, his voice not travelling very far considering his small size. Nevertheless, a dark haired boy pulled back a curtain to find Dean Winchester standing on his front lawn. He smiled at Dean and let the curtain fall back into place. The front door opened and he ran down the stairs, careful not to fall over his untied laces.

"Dean!" the young boy exclaimed before hugging his friend warmly.

"Oh gross get off me, Cas!" Dean pushed the boy away and laughed, wiping himself off. "You're sick. I don't want cooties or somethin'."

Cas blinked, his face thoughtful. "I thought only girls could give cooties, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes and patted his friends shoulder.

"Eh maybe you're a girl, Cas?" Dean chuckled and decided it best to change the subject. "Wanna come over for a while? My dad's asleep so we'd have to be quiet…"

"Can we go for a walk today Dean?" Cas inquired, his head cocked to the side.

"Uhh… its getting a bit late. My dad might get angry…" Dean trailed off, turning to glance at his own house just next door.

"Oh please please please please, Dean? Can we please go for a walk?" Cas begged, his eyes glowing as if he were about to cry.

"Oh fine, but we can't be long."

* * *

The sun had vanished but the sky was a bright apricot colour, as though the sky had been painted by hand by a bunch of talented artists. Clouds were strewn across the heavens , light and pink, slightly contrasted against the apricot sky. Dean sat atop a wooden bridge whilst his dark haired friend threw heavy rocks into the tiny stream. At the edge of the park, where the field of green and freshly mowed grass met the woods intimidating front, young boys Dean and Castiel talked for an eternity about absolutely nothing, giggling and running together.

"Cas. Do you think things will always be like this?" Dean whispered as the suns last rays of light made their ever quickening retreat across the sky.

"Hmm?" Cas replied, his eyes shut whilst they lay on the soft grass, facing upwards at the beginning of the night.

"This." Dean made an awkward hand gesture between them that Castiel never saw. "Our friendship? Going to school together? Do you think it'll stay like this, Cas?" Dean propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at his friend.

Castiel's eyes opened up, thoughtful.

"Dean. You know we'll always be friends right? No matter what."

"Yeah." Dean smiled in spite of himself when he saw that Cas had closed his eyes again. "Always."

* * *

When Dean finally arrived home, he bid Castiel a goodnight and entered his house to find his father and Sam watching TV on the couch.

"Where've you been?" John Winchester didn't look away from the TV, but he didn't sound cross either.

"I was with Cas, dad." Dean replied earnestly.

"I'm glad you have a friend and all Dean but at least tell me when you're going to be home late."

"I thought you were asleep. Sorry, sir." Dean said before joining his small family on the couch. They were watching the Simpsons.

John Winchester smiled and ruffled Dean's hair before standing up and walking into the kitchen.

"Whaddya guys wants for dinner?" He called.

* * *

It was the next morning, Saturday and Dean was looking forward to seeing Castiel. He walked outside and onto his neighbour's lawn before calling out to Cas again like he had the previous day.

"Cas?" and sure enough the blue eyes boy ran through the front door and hugged Dean just as he always did.

"Oh no way what did I tell you yesterday? Get off!" Dean said these words through laughter and didn't try to push him off. Eventually he let go and smiled crookedly at Dean.

"Wanna go for another walk?" Dean suggested, pointing towards the park at the end of their street.

"Yes please."

And with that they walked together, kicking a stone between them as they made their way towards the evergreen field of St. George Memorial park.

* * *

The day passed in a flash and before they knew it the sun was setting once again, the falling leaves and gentle trickle from the creek were the only sounds heard as they lay together looking up at the first few stars in the infant night sky. Dean smiled wistfully in Cas' direction as he listened carefully to his breathing.

"Cas."

"Yeah?"

"You're my best friend."

"You mean that?

"I really do."


	2. Chapter 2

**_CHAPTER 2 _**

Dean sat on his bed in silence and peered out his bedroom window at the moving truck parked outside his neighbours house. The leaves had grown back now for it was the middle of spring, the thick branches getting in the way of his view. Dean strained his eyes to watch two men get out of the truck and walk up to Cas's front door. They knocked and before long Dean caught sight of Castiel's father who let them inside. Not much time had passed before they came back outside, carrying a dull green coloured couch. Dean felt a tightening in his stomach with which he was not familiar.

* * *

Two hours later, the removal truck pulled out and was soon out of sight. Dean saw Cas and his dad walk out onto the lawn; they were talking. Cas glanced in Dean direction, making him shrink back from the window, not wanting to be seen. Cas's father nodded down at his son and then turned to his garage before proceeding to get inside their small car, turning the key. Cas however walked to the Winchester's front door and rang the bell.

Dean felt his heart drop as the bell rung throughout the house, his lungs not cooperating as he fought for breath.

Sam answered the door. "Dean, Cas is here! He wants to see you."

"Let him up!" Dean replied, sniffling and trying to compose himself.

Dean listened to the light footsteps as they ascended the stair case just outside his room. There was a soft knock on the door before Castiel walked in, his face twisted into a crooked smile that didn't quite touch his eyes.

"Uh, hey Dean…" Cas spoke quietly, his eyes now looking directly at the floor.

"Hi, Cas." Dean replied, trying to hide his squeakier-than-usual tone.

There was a long pause during which neither of them moved nor spoke. Dean tried his hardest not to cry; John had always told him to be strong.

Cas shuffled his feet and looked up at Dean who, unluckily, had a few tear streaks running down his face by this time. Cas practically whimpered as he all but ran for Dean, hugging him with what little strength he had left.

Dean didn't speak. He did not shove Castiel off. He hugged him back. In the first time during their entire friendship, Dean Winchester hugged his best, and only friend, Castiel Novak. He shook as Castiel clung to him, his eyes clenched shut.

They stayed like that for some time before they heard a car horn from outside. Castiel's dad thought they'd had enough time now. Castiel reluctantly let Dean go and he stared an unwaveringly into his eyes.

"I am going to miss you, Dean Winchester."

"And I'll miss you too, Cas." Dean whispered through sobs.

And with that, Castiel turned and walked from Dean's room, never to return.


	3. Chapter 3

_**CASTIEL**_

Red and blue neon lights pulsated through the deserted street as sirens cut through the night, rebounding off the brick apartment walls. Castiel panted as his boots hit the pavement, the flashing lights far too close for comfort. A megaphone screeched before Castiel heard a man's voices boom even louder than the shrieking sirens.

"Stop running, Novak!" Castiel glanced behind him only to be momentarily blinded by the blearing lights, making his balance tip dangerously. He made a sharp left turn into a shady alley way and climbed a steel mesh fence. The sleeve of his heavy tan overcoat got caught on the wire, tearing a small hole in it. He ripped his sleeve free and then made a stumbled landing before taking off again, with no actual destination in mind.

Castiel climbed into a large steel bin and all but buried himself in litter, holding his breath as police officers ran down the tiny side street. An eternity seemed to pass as Castiel's life flashed before his eyes; his promising childhood, his school years – not quite completed. It all came down to this one moment of confusion and misunderstanding.

He waited until the lights had stopped spinning as they passed through the streets nearby and the sirens died down as they surveyed roads further away. Castiel lifted himself clumsily from within the confines of the steel bin and dusted himself off without really making any sort of improvement to his appearance. He sighed and walked in the opposite direction in which he had come, hoping to find an easier way out than climbing that stupid fence again.

What was he to do? He couldn't go home, they'd be looking for him there. He didn't have any friends or family anymore. All he could do was run. And that's just what he did. He ran.

* * *

**_DEAN_**

"I dunno, Sammy. Maybe I just won't turn up anymore." Dean looked at the ground as he felt his brother's keen eyes upon him.

"What are you talking about, Dean? Don't you want an education anymore?" he questioned, nonplussed.

"I never wanted one." Dean snapped back, looking up from the ground with a glint of defiance behind his eyes.

"Okay okay, damn it, Dean. What's gotten into you lately?"

Dean felt the question must have been rhetorical because after that Sam simply sighed and turned away before closing the door as he left their small, shared apartment.

Dean rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, looking for something to do with himself. He wandered to the fridge and took out a beer.

Dean turned on the television and watched the news with mild interest, his stare glazed and vacant. He took a swig of his beer and grabbed for the remote again. Just as he was about to press the button for the next channel, an interesting story on a run-away suspect flashed across the screen. Dean listened as they told of the horrible nature of the crime of which the suspect was accused, his attention piqued.

"… suspect, Castiel Novak, was last seen in Mill Valley, CA. Suspected for murders of the Henderson family, mother Molly, father David and three children, aged between 10 years and 18 months…" it went on for some time about how to contact officials if the suspect was seen.

Dean's jaw went slack, his mind swimming in those two simple words. _Castiel Novak_.

No. It couldn't be _his_ Cas. There was no way that his childhood friend from 10 years ago could possibly be a murder suspect. It was then that the news reporter displayed a photograph of the suspect, 'Castiel Novak'.

The same, dark haired boy with blue eyes from 10 years ago stared back at him with tired, frightened eyes. Dean just _knew_ it was him.

Dean turned off the television and scrawled a note for Sam for when he got home from school.

_Sammy, I have to run some errands._

_Should be home before too late. There's some money on the fridge for take away if I don't get home for dinner. _

_Dean._

And with that Dean grabbed his leather jacket and left the apartment. Once outside he dug into his pocket and took out his keys before proceeding to unlock his car. The very same '67 Chevy Impala that had once belonged to his dad.

The engine roared to life with a swift turn at the ignition and Dean was soon racing down the highway, headed for Mill Valley CA.


	4. Chapter 4

**CASTIEL**

Castiel walked through the busy streets with his collar up against his cheeks as he attempted to hide his face from the surrounding citizens. He needed a way out of Mill Valley and the busy streets were his ticket. Without a car or friend to help him, he was all but stranded with very little money.

With what money he had left Cas got on a bus and left the town in hopes of finding a new life somewhere safer.

* * *

**DEAN**

Dean floored his Impala as he raced for Mill Valley, praying to god that he could get there in time. Street signs and turns offs from the highway flew past him as he entered San Francisco, the sun high in the sky by now. Traffic was unbelievably slow within the heart of the city, so Dean turned on his radio for a while to cool his nerves.

He caught the end of some stupid song he'd heard a million times before a news broadcast came on the air. It was an update on the disappearance of one Castiel Novak. Dean's breath caught in his throat and he moved his hand to flick the radio off again when he found they had no new updates.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his nerves reached an all-time high. _He was never going to find Castiel at this rate_.

* * *

**CASTIEL**

Castiel stared out the window at the vast wheat fields, thankful to be free of the city and that no one on this bus had recognised him.

His head swam with the confusing recent events. Could I possibly be a murderer? Castiel must have asked himself this question a thousand times as he felt the bus come to a stop at some all but deserted gas station. Cas looked through is tinted window as the passengers boarded, laden with heavy bags and suit cases. They took their seats and before long the bus was traveling on the open highway once again. Castiel didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that it was far away from San Francisco.

* * *

**DEAN**

Dean had finally made it through the city and was now traveling to the police station in Mill Valley. He parked his Impala outside the office and went inside, trying his best to keep calm considering his take on the circumstances.

"Hi there, Sir. What can we do fer ya today?" Dean practically winced at the horrid accent but held his tongue from his usual smartarse comment.

"Uh I was actually here to see if I could get some extra info on that run away suspect of yours. Castiel Novak?" Dean put on his nicest smile and felt stupid for it.

"All yas heard on the radio is all there be on the subject." The police officer replied bluntly, his interest completely gone from his expression. "If that's all I'll ask ye to leave now."

Dean gaped at his ill mannerisms and left, his fists clenched.

_I can't hang around all day, I gotta find the little dude._

Dean started the Impala up and left the lot, frustrated and worried. Castiel could be anywhere by now, and Cas was a lot of things but as Dean remembers, stupid wasn't one of them. He wouldn't hang around a place where every guy knew his face. He'd be long gone by now and there wasn't a damned thing Dean could do about it. Nevertheless, Dean drove his Impala for hours surveying the streets, asking people in stores and apartments if they'd seen a gawky tall guy with dark hair, blue eyes and a vacant expression.

Regrettably, no one had.

* * *

**CASTIEL**

The bus stopped in a small town and by now the bus driver had noticed that the skinny guy in the heavy clothes at the back of his bus had been on for far longer than what he had paid for. Without much hassle he was asked to exit the bus and Cas had no choice but to leave.

Castiel watched with an empty feeling in the pit of him stomach as the bright red lights on the back of the bus drove off and out of sight leaving him stranded in an odd town late at night. Not a soul wandered the streets, not even a car drove past as Castiel wandered along the highway, completely by passing the small town. The cold night air bit at Castiel's cheeks, turning them red as he walked against the breeze, headed out of town.

He walked what felt like a century before he reached a small farm. There was a cosy little farm house, its lights flickering brightly through its tiny windows. Castiel looked inside at the small family, feeling his stomach twist uncomfortably. He found himself dawdling towards the house, lost in his imagination as he pictured himself inside with his own family, happy and warm. Castiel was brought back to reality when a roaring truck passed him on the highway, its backdraft washing over Cas as he stood still, arms folded across his shivering chest.

He walked closer to the house and found that in the next paddock over there was a large hay barn, its windows dark. Castiel waddled over awkwardly, stepping around mud puddles as he made his crooked way toward the darkened barn. When he arrived, to his delight he found that the side door was unlocked so he pulled the lever and entered the large wooden structure.

Inside was marginally warmer, the cold wind ceased and he, as quietly as he possibly could, shut the door behind himself. The barn he found, when his eyes adjusted to the darkness, was filled with towering bales of hay, a rather small red tractor and a makeshift stable in the far corner; very typical for a farm barn, really.

Castiel walked over to the back of the barn, hidden from view if someone were to walk through the door at any time, and settled himself down for the night amongst the prickly hay, the smell of wheat in the air.

* * *

**DEAN**

It was a few hours after dark before Dean finally called it quits. After hearing no word about his long lost friend Castiel, he decided it was time he headed home for Sammy.

When Dean got home from a very long and disappointing day, he crashed on the couch before he gave Sam the opportunity to ask any questions.

Dean dreamt of a lazy afternoon spent at a green park, a dark haired boy running with him as they raced each other to the swing set.


	5. Chapter 5

**DEAN**

"Dean you've been acting weird all day what the hell is wrong with you? I'm not leaving until you tell me." Sam stood defiantly in front of Dean who sat with his face in his hands. He sighed deeply before looking up to meet Sam's intense glare. It softened slightly when he saw the look on Dean's face.

"Oh hey dude what's up?" Sam unfolded his arms and sat down next to Dean who rubbed a hand over his mouth.

"Sammy. D'you remember that town we used to live in when you were 4?"

Sam's expression went blank as he could see where this was going. He remembered all too well.

"… Cas?" Sam whispered, looking meekly at Dean who looked at the linoleum floor.

"Yeah. Well yesterday just after you left, I saw a news broadcast. Cas is a wanted suspect for the murder of a family of like five people, Sammy. That's not him. He couldn't do something like that-" He was abruptly cut off as Sam gabbed his shoulder.

"Dean I don't mean to be a downer but c'mon that was like 10 years ago now, he could be completely different by now. Anything could have happened to him in that time." Sam waited for a response as Dean looked blankly at nothing in particular.

"Cas. Wouldn't. Do. That. I don't care if it had been 20 years ago that he was my best friend, Sam. I know him. He wouldn't do this." Dean rubbed his hands together before putting his face back into his palms. "I couldn't find him, Sammy." Dean mumbled into his hands, a stinging in his eyes.

"I'm sure he's innocent, Dean." And with that, Sam left Dean alone. Dean would only get angry at him if he hung around for too long.

Sam remembers Castiel all too clearly. The day that Cas left, was the day that half of Dean left, too. He just hadn't been the same since.

**CASTIEL**

Castiel was shaken awake by a small, delicate hand, her anxious expression brought Castiel back to the real world but before he could ask her anything, she had rounded the edge of the bales and was out of sight. Castiel went to stand but something told him he might want to hide instead. He shrank back into the hay and kept his eyes on the spot where the young girl disappeared.

The barn was quiet for a short while before the door was swung open. Cas went to stand again but decided to stay put. Heavy footsteps drew nearer and Cas felt his stomach drop and his heart leap into his throat. A shadow crawled across the floor as a tall figure was nearing the edge of the bales of hay. Castiel held his breath and backed completely against the wall.

A tall, brown haired man stepped around the corner, a large shovel in his hands. At his waist clinging to his shirt was the young girl, her eyes wide.

"What're y'all doin' on my farm in my shed?" the man asked, his voice curt and steady; he wasn't going to take any excuses.

"Er- well- I was just-" Castiel went to stand up but his head was met with a blunt metal object, his vision flickered white before going black as he sank down into a heavy emptiness.

Cas came back to reality some time later, the sun on the verge of setting again. He was greeted with a headache that would kill a horse. He could feel something on the side of his face as if there had been apple juice and it had dried. He opened his eyes and stared blearily at the dark shapes around him; 4 in total. Castiel moved a hand clumsily to his face and rubbed at the skin. He took his hand away and blinked rapidly. Slowly, his vision came back with the exception of some small flickering black dots. On his fingers were speckles of red; blood he assumed.

After taking in that his face was obviously doused in his own blood, he dared look beyond his fingers at the 4 figures surrounding him. Two adults; one male, one female, obviously married. The man he vaguely remembers. And two younger children, two girls, one of which he recalls is the girl from the barn. It is then that Castiel notices a 5th figure, an infant in a high chair at the table behind the people around him.

"What's yer name?" comes the first question, the man eyeing Cas suspiciously.

Castiel's mouth opened but no words followed, his eyes darting around anxiously. The man shared a quick glance with his wife; she nodded and left the room. It wasn't long before she returned, a glass of water in her hands. She passed it to Castiel timidly. He nodded as thanks. Castiel took a swig from the glass and felt it slide down his rasping throat, his eyes clamped shut. After he'd downed the water he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I uh… I don't know sir." The farmer blinked and eyed him expectantly. "I don't… I can't remember…" Cas looked at the ground, his hands still flecked with dried blood.

The young farmer stood upright and reached around to his back pocket. He withdrew an artefact that was slightly familiar to Castiel.

"Says 'ere yer name's Castiel Novak." Cas stared, dazed as he heard his name.

"That does sound, uh, slightly familiar…" he gave his crooked smile at each of the people standing around him.

"Well, seems like yer broke there… Are ye any good with animals, boy?" The farmer asked, his expression unreadable.

"I… I don't rightly know, sir." Cas squeaked, his smile faltering as he strained to remember anything from his past.

"Well at dawn we'll see if yer at all handy round here. Till then Marianne will take ye to our guest room. You might wanna sleep off that headache yer bound to 'ave. " And with that the young man turned and left back for the dining room before taking his place at the head of the table. Marianna, who Castiel gathered was the kindly woman who gave him the water, reached for his hand and lead him down the hallway and into a bedroom.

She didn't talk much but she told Castiel that he could have a shower if he so desired and to help himself to towels in the hallway closet. She then bid him a goodnight and left him alone in the room.

Castiel thought it weird that they were so hospitable to a stranger. But… maybe he wasn't? Trying to remember anything made his head hurt, so Castiel just crashed on the small creaky bed, thankful for a warm place to spend the night.

* * *

**DEAN**

Days had turned into weeks, weeks into months. Time went on without word on the murder suspect Castiel Novak and Dean soon lost hope, only hoping that Cas could stay undetected and safe. Things returned to normal for the most part, but Dean still thought of Castiel every day, often drifting off into his world when the two were mere children again, at the park on an autumn afternoon.

**CASTIEL**

It turned out that Castiel was indeed good with animals. Dogs and horses mainly. The young farmer, Anthony, taught Cas how to handle them and how to ride. He offered Castiel a job as a ranch hand with steady pay. It wasn't long before Castiel was another one of the family, eating, working, living with the small family of 5. Cas never remembered much, just that he was alone in the world but had found a new family; a new meaning. And that was enough to let him sleep easily through the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**DEAN**

"Bobby, c'mon now. If you aren't paying for fuel, how the hell am I meant to get there?" Dean huffed, folding his arms as Bobby glared comically at Dean, still seeing him as the angry 16 year old kid he was 8 years ago.

"Dammit, Dean. You've gotta make it on your own. If you wanna go on some ludacris cross country trip in that tank, that's your problem, not mine." Bobby grunted at Dean who was fighting back the urge to stamp his foot. Dean did have some reserve but they were few and far between. He barely had over 2 thousand dollars. Eventually Bobby came to realise that this was something Dean honestly needed to do; to perhaps, find meaning, or discover himself. Bobby leant him just under 5 grand but he made it very clear that upon Dean's return, he would work in the garage to pay it back. Dean was grateful but didn't stick around for long goodbyes. Sam gave Dean a quick hug before they parted ways, Sam feeling a tiny bit unsure of the situation. He'd never really been apart from Dean before.

Dean turned the ignition and he was off down the road, leaving Bobby and Sam on the side of the road waving, hollow smiles across their faces. Dean didn't know where he was going, and he didn't know where. All he knew was there was something nagging him, pushing him away from his loved ones and into something greater. Dean slid in one of his old cassettes and AC/DC roared through the car, the rhythm beating along with the engine.

* * *

**CASTIEL**

Castiel had now lived on this farm for the past couple of years; 6 years, actually. Anthony and Marianne were as good parents as Castiel ever had; biological or not. Their three children, Lillian, Polly and Chad were like siblings, be it they were much, much younger than he. The eldest, Lillian, was the young girl that had accompanied Anthony into the shed that morning so long ago. Although even now at age 15, Lillian was Castiel's dearest and only friend. She was intelligent and witty; her eyes sparkled when she smiled at Cas.

Over the 6 years that Castiel had spent as a ranch hand he hadn't remembered anything. He felt that his name was familiar, his birthday and age on his card that was within is wallet at the time that Anthony had found him. He never felt like he was meant to be anywhere else; that he had anyone close to him before he lost his memory. All he ever really dreamt of at night was his family here. But on some nights, during the harsh winters after a bad day, he dreamt of a park on an orange afternoon, clouds high in the sky as a faceless boy kicked a stone with him along a leaf-littered path.

* * *

Anthony sat at the table, a newspaper in his tough hands. He flipped the corner down to see Castiel as he entered the room, his crooked grin spread drowsily on his face.

"Uh mornin' Anthony. Tomorrow's the big day, huh?" Cas yawned before taking his usual stop at the table; next to Lillian who was still in bed at this hour.

"I 'spose it is. Yer sure about this? Think you can do it?" Anthony put down the paper. His eyes were searching Castiel's, looking for a hint of hesitation or doubt. Castiel help his smile and nodded, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. Although he'd only driven a few times, Castiel felt at home behind the wheel of their rusty old wagon of a car. Today was his big chance to prove he could drive on the road alone.

"Alrighty. Well at noon termorrow I'll send ye to get us some lunch from the store. Marianne's having the day off from cookin'." Castiel's smile grew brighter and he nodded a second time. Anthony tried to conceal a smile as Cas left the room and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

* * *

**DEAN**

It wasn't long before the sun had gone down, leaving everything on the sides of the highway eerie looking as Dean drove at an even pace. His radio hadn't been touched, his music blearing far too loudly to seem fitting for the scene that was set. His hands enclosed tightly around the steering wheel, his stare unwavering as he remembered Castiel more clearly than he had since that awful day when he moved away. He thought in detail about his crooked smile, the odd things he wore that often looked far too big for his fragile form. His obsession with St George's Memorial Park and the tiny stream that wove its merry way under the old bridge; it seemed like centuries ago, half forgotten. Dean hadn't let himself think about Castiel in a long time. He found that, as a child, he got angry and it was never long before the tears came flooding. Tears meant weakness; John would never have stood for that if Dean had let it show. Well, that's what Dean thought anyway.

In actuality John was worried at the time when Dean seemed to be extremely adjusted to the situation. He was so close to Cas, and that was something John was so very pleased about after Dean having no friends prior.

Something in Dean died when Cas left. Like half of him left with him. Dean knew he needed to find someone new, someone that could make him forget he ever met the dark haired boy with the crooked smile; the boy who made him feel as though he could do anything.

Dean pulled over and put his seat back, folding his arms over his chest as he fell into an empty sleep, devoid of dreams.

* * *

**CASTIEL**

The day passed quickly and before Castiel knew it, the sun had set and he was in bed, his crooked smile brighter than usual as he drifted off into an easy sleep.

* * *

The morning came all too quickly as a sleepy Castiel walked into the bathroom. An unshaven face stared back at him, eyes dreary and blurred. Cas rubbed his face, the stubble rough under his palms. He had a quick shower and before he knew it he was out in the stable yard with a young filly named Zooey. She had a damaged leg and Castiel had taken it upon himself to nurse her back to health. Every day he bandaged her leg and gave her a needle. He really hated giving them needles; it made him feel ill.

Around midday Anthony called Cas inside and handed him the keys to their wagon.

"You ready, boy?" Anthony asked, suppressing a smile as Cas grinned eagerly. He took the keys and started the engine, Anthony waving him as he pulled out of the driveway.

"Lunch time…" Cas beamed as he drove down the deserted road, dust rising from the dirt path.

Castiel's job today was to drive to the small fuel station off the highway and buy the family some lunch; Marianne decided she deserved a day off, which in all honesty, she really did.

Before long Cas had arrived at his destination with no surprising occurrence, just the odd snake or two on the road, a truck passing him on the highway.

* * *

**DEAN**

Dean woke with a start late in the morning, his mouth dry and sticky. He blinked slowly, his focus awkwardly searching for something to zone in on.

Before long Dean was on the move again, the sun high in the sky as he sang along with his old cassette tapes, Black Sabbath roaring through the car.

Around twelve o'clock Dean pulled into a shabby looking fuel station, the Impala begging for something to keep her going. Dean ran his hand along her side and filled her up till the tank was completely filled. He screwed the cap back on and turned to walk into the station. The door jingled as he stepped inside, the smell of stale beer and chips invaded his nostrils, making him feel a bit sick. Dean sought out the woman who was talking to a dark haired man over the counter; obviously she was the cashier. He walked over to her and waited until she was ready to serve him.

"… hold up, dear, just lemme serve this gentleman. Hi there, the names Ellen. Is she yours?" Ellen nodded in the general direction of the Impala and Dean half smiled.

"She sure is." He nodded before Ellen asked if he was paying with cash or credit card. Dean handed her a small wad of cash and went to turn for the door. Just as he was headed to leave Ellen called after him:

"Hey, honey? Did you want a receipt?"

Dean turned back to her, he raised his hand to gesture a simple no before he finally took a second to look at the man she was talking to before he came inside. His hand stopped in an awkward position, hanging in the air as his eyes grew wide with shock.

Dark hair, blue eyes, vacant expression. It was him. He knew it was him. It _had_ to be him.

Cas looked at Ellen who stared blankly at Dean. Cas then changed his view from her to Dean. He stared at Dean for some time, their eyes searching each other. Dean took a step forward and whispered, barely audible, "…Castiel?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for all the reviews and stuff everyone :) I must add though that I never reread my own stuff which I realise is really dumb but I hate reading my own scrawlings so... apologies for my mistakes and the ones I am surely yet to make.**

* * *

"Uhh. Do I _know_ you?" came Cas's curious reply, his head cocked to one side as he eyed Dean carefully.

"Yeah, sure y'do! It's me! Dean! We went to school together, Cas!" Dean was smiling, beaming almost. His eyes glittering as Castiel only became more confused.

"I'm sorry – Dean was it? – I'm sorry Dean, but I honestly don't remember you at all." Castiel spoke almost unemotionally, his tone even, expression blank.

Dean was taken aback. After nearly 20 years of remembering one friend – his only friend – it never occurred to him that maybe Castiel had moved on; gotten other friends and forgotten him.

Dean found his peak had passed and now he was left feeling stupid, his posture awkward and gawky. He straightened up and cleared his expression to a goofy smile, trying to appear as though he hadn't just had his stomach metaphorically stabbed 37 times. Castiel's expression remained unreadable as he stayed seated on the bar stool; his old coat dirty, the hole still in its sleeve from 6 years ago, only now it was triple the size. Dean bit his lip and searched desperately for something to say.

"Well, I sure remember you, Cas. You were my best friend when I was at school – before you moved away of course." He smiled pleasantly at Castiel who just sat there, staring at him.

"Is there uh, any chance we could have a chat sometime, Cas?" Dean asked, eager to get him away from this Ellen woman.

"Well I uh-"

"Great! I'll follow you back to your place then." And with that Dean left and got into his car.

Ellen shrugged at Castiel who sat stunned on his chair as Ellen's daughter Jo walked out from the kitchen with some bags in her hands. She handed them over the counter to Cas who took them without looking away from the man behind the wheel of the shiny black Impala out front. He stood, muttering his thanks to them as he pushed the door open with his shoulder.

Something about Dean was strange. He honestly couldn't remember him at all, but then again, he didn't remember anything from his life before Anthony and Marianne took him in.

Dean tried not to wave at Castiel as he got into the dodgy looking wagon, his stomach floating. _His best friend was right here._ Although it hurt that Cas didn't remember him, Dean was determined to make him remember at least _something _about him.

Without thought, Castiel turned the ignition and the old engine cut in, making an uneven choking kind of sound. It rolled easily out onto the highway and Dean followed closely behind, careful not to lose his rediscovered friend.

* * *

Upon the arrival at the farm, Dean got out of his car as Castiel all but ran inside, the bags in his hands. Dean was left outside standing awkwardly, leaning against the driver's door of the Impala.

It was some time before Cas returned, a bag over his shoulder as he approached Dean, tiny faces peering out through the window.

"Get in the car." Cas instructed and Dean obeyed, completely perplexed. Cas rounded the Impala and got in on the passengers' side, slamming the door shut with his bag on his lap. Dean started her up and pulled out the drive way, uncertain as to wear he was taking Castiel. Or rather, where Cas was taking him.

They sat in silence for some time before Dean decided it was high time Cas answered some questions.

"Uh Cas, not to be a stick in the mud but where am I meant to be taking you?" Dean tried to look at Castiel's face as he waited for an answer but seeing as he was driving, this proved to be a difficult task.

"Oh, you're not taking me anywhere. I'm coming _with_ you." Cas replied curtly, eyes straight ahead.

Dean stared, swaying on the road slightly as he tried to straighten up. "Oh? And what makes you think I _want_ to take you with me?"

Cas tore his eyes from the road and stared into Deans face, his expression blank as usual.

"I am unsure of my motives. But I think you _do_ want me to come with you." Cas turned back to the road and was silent again.

Dean weighed the options and truthfully, he hadn't felt this alive since the day Castiel moved away. He had his friend with him for who knows how long, a car full of fuel and no destination. Dean couldn't help but smile as he drove down the empty highway, the sun setting dramatically behind them.

* * *

"Here look any good?" Dean asked, steering the Impala carefully up the pothole ridden drive.

"Yeah sure. It's only for the night anyway."

They had just pulled into the first motel in the next town they entered; a dodgy looking, low set U shaped building that was painted an awful yellow colour.

They were soon checked in to a shabby room with two very small, musky smelling beds and a tiny kitchenette. A small box-like tv set sat precariously on a rickety table in the corner closest to the door.

"Oh this is all kinds of awful," Dean mumbled, covering his face with his jacket sleeve to protect his lung from the foul air. Cas seemed unaffected and moved to place his bag onto the bed, his expression inhumanly blank as usual. An unsettling thought crossed Dean's mind for half a second. _This man was the only murder suspect of an entire family. What if he came here to kill me too?_ Dean quickly shook the thought away, clearing his mind by turning on the television.

It was late and not long after their arrival before they decided to go to sleep so they could be up and gone early in the morning. Castiel took the bed closest to the door and as he peeled back his damp sheets, he found something quite unpleasant amongst his covers; a used condom.

"Oh." He said, barely audible.

"Aw, shit Cas. D'you think they even clean the room after each resident?" Dean chuckled, his question rhetorical.

"I'm unsure of their cleaning schedule, Dean." Cas placed the sheets back down and sat on the top, coming to the conclusion that the safest way to sleep here was to lay on top of the blankets. Dean silently agreed with this, afraid of what may lurk under his own bed linen.

After they had climbed onto their beds, Dean stared languidly at the ceiling.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, man?"

"Was I really your best friend in school?"

"Truthfully speakin', Cas… You still are."

"How is that even possible?" Cas propped himself up with one arm, staring into the darkness knowing that somewhere in that direction Dean was only a few metres away.

"I dunno, really." Dean didn't like this conversation very much. He didn't want even Castiel knowing how weak he was. Especially not Cas. If he truly didn't remember him, then he couldn't make a new first impression as some kind of sissy.

Castiel made a noise to show he acknowledged his words, then he lay back down.

"It's strange you don't remember me, really. We were awfully close, Cas." Dean said, hoping it would lead to tales of Cas's busy and fulfilling life, coaxing him to explain the murder suspicion.

"Well, it really isn't actually. Y'know that farm we were at today? That's been my home for around 6 years now, and its all I remember. Y'see, apparently when I got there it wasn't upon the best of terms. I think Anthony - the man who owns the farm - said I was camping in his barn or something. He hit me with a shovel."

Dean was taken aback. "He hit you with a _shovel_?"

"Yes. We only even know my real name because of some cards in my wallet."

Dean felt as though a weight had been lifted, even though this amnesia was serious business. He was utterly relived that somewhere in there, Castiel may still remember him.

"That'd explain why your face is so messed up." Dean laughed at his own twisted humour, leaving Castiel half hurt, half indifferent.

"I am yet to understand your sense of humour." Cas uttered before turning his back on Dean.

Soon Deans laughter died down into a slow and steady snore, Castiel dreaming of nothing in particular.


	8. Chapter 8

**I AM REALLY VERY SORRY FOR THE DELAY AND DEPLORABLE QUALITY DON'T HIT ME PLEASE I'LL WRITE CHAPTER 9 SOON I'M SO SORRY FOR THE AMOUNT OF FAILURE IN THIS FOLLOWING CHAPTER OHGOD.**

* * *

Before the sun had risen Castiel was awake again, sitting on the edge of his bed with wide eyes. He couldn't sleep very well, the smell of mouldy sheets intruding his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He put his face in his hands and rubbed his dry eyes. Dean shuffled around on his bed close by making Castiel's eyes to drift lazily onto his closed ones.

_Who are you?_

Castiel stood up and pulled back the stiff curtains, a dull light seeping through the room, making it even more unpleasant than before. Everything is uglier up close.

The sound of the curtains roused Dean from his sleep and he sat up, staring at Cas who was now standing at the fridge, peering cautiously inside at the vast (not) amount of contents: some milk, jug of water, a couple cans of coke. Nothing extraordinary.

"Why are you up?" Dean wiped his hand over his face, pushing his hair back up and away from his forehead.

"Can't sleep, I suppose." He replied simply, closing the fridge. "You want to head out or do you requite more rest?"

"You speak strange, dude. Maybe _you_ need to sleep more."

Castiel cocked his head to the side before taking the keys off the top of the fridge and throwing them to Dean. "Let's go."

It didn't take them long to get ready to leave. Dean however, before leaving, demanded his rights to a shower. He took his sweet time, or so Castiel thought impatiently.

Soon they were on the road again, the sun rising quickly in the sky as the thin white lines on the highway flew past them as they streaked across the plains.

"So. If you really don't remember me, what's the unlikely story behind your volunteering to come with me on this trip, Cas?" Dean took his eyes off the road for a few seconds at a time as he watched Castiel ponder his question.

"I don't know." He almost whispered his answer, giving Dean a look that made him feel a bit uncomfortable. His expression was almost _pleading_.

"Well, I hope you like pie," was his uneducated reply.

"So tell me about yourself Cas. What've you been up to all these years?" Dean decided that after an hour of awkward silence, it was probably best to initiate a conversation.

"I've been a ranch hand. Dealing with horses mostly."

"Oh." Dean wasn't overly fond of animals unless they were reduced to a patty between two whole-wheat buns. "You live at the ranch then?"

"Yes. I'm what Anthony refers to as a 'live-in'. I work and have accommodation there as payment." Castiel turned to stare at Dean who seemed pretty set on only looking at the road.

"How about you, Dean?"

"I uh- I don't actually know. I was in between jobs back at home."

"And where is home?"

Dean wasn't sure how to answer this. After all, Castiel was still a murder suspect. That was a fact that couldn't simply be ignored.

"My car." Dean replied with a smile, shoving the 'murder' thoughts away to the back of his mind.

Castiel remained silent again after this, not really understanding the answer he received to what he considered a very basic question.

"So uhh. When that Anthony guy hit you with the shovel, what then? You really only remember the last 6 years?" Dean asked this, careful of his wording.

"Yes. I don't remember anything from before-hand, really. I still had my basic speech skills and whatnot but I didn't have any memory of people or places. I didn't even recognise my own face."

"Sounds rough. Well, I sure remember you, Cas. You and I went to school together in the first grade when we were 6. But you, uh. You moved away during the summer holidays." Dean made sure he didn't look at Cas when he said this, and he tried to keep his voice even.

"Huh. Shame I don't remember you, Dean. You seem like you would have been a valuable friend." Castiel said, voice blunt but his words sincere. Dean smiled to himself.

They stopped for gas three times that day and spent very little money on food, both starving by 8:00pm that night when they pulled into a road house restaurant. It was practically empty, being a Wednesday night.

They sat quietly as they ate, trying not to make any awkward eye contact. They asked each other little questions here and there, like education and whatnot. Neither of them really having much of anything worth having, they decided upon a comfortable silence.

"Hey Cas. You up for it?" Dean grinned slyly and pointed to the bar. Cas followed his gaze, confused.

"Up for what, Dean?"

Dean blinked, his smile faltered. "Up for some drinks?" he pressed on, taking a step towards the bar.

"Oh. I don't fancy the liquid very much, actually. But, maybe just this once." Cas took a seat next to Dean at the bar and a bar tender turned up, his face weathered.

"Two shots of whiskey." The bar tender nodded and poured out two mouthful sized servings of whiskey in the tiny shot glasses. Dean downed his in one go, Cas observing him closely.

"Well, go on then." Dean urged him further, smiling. He put up two fingers to the bar tender and they were served two more shots. Cas choked on his first shot but took the second much better.

Before long they'd drunk way more than was intended and Dean listened intently as Cas mumbled to himself about something called a 'Zooey'.

"Alrighty time for bed, Cas," Dean slurred, half picking Castiel up from the bar stool. He paid begrudgingly and then proceeded to walk out into the night.

"Hope you don't mind sleeping in a car, dude."

Cas stumbled and latched onto Dean's arm, clinging to his sleeve for dear life as he kept mumbling about different things that Dean could make no sense of. Dean pulled open the car door and cas fell inside, already half asleep. Chuckling to himself, Dean pushed all Castiel's limbs into the car, making sure he wouldn't slam them when he closed the door.

"This is gonna be one long night if you don't shut the hell up, Cas." He laughed and Castiel actually smiled right back, his teeth an even row as he grinned in the dim light of the street lamp.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry its late and short. i really need to work on making these chapters longer ugh.**

* * *

Dean woke with a start and his mouth tasted like something had died in it overnight. He groaned and massaged his neck which was all locked up from spending the night in an awkward angle against the car window. His head pounded with a hangover, his vision blurred and his voice croaky. He looked to his side and saw a sleeping Castiel, his chest falling and rising softly as he breathed in the crisp morning air. The parking lot was empty and the Impala's radio read 6:14am. Dean straightened his body out so he could access his pocket. He pulled out his phone and found he had three missed called from an old friend of his; Garth.

Dean sighed and reached across the console to gripped Cas' shoulder. He shook him awake until a bleary eyed Castiel stared at him from under his droopy lids.

"What, Dean?" he slurred his words and rubbed his eyes with a lazy hand, yawning after he had finished.

"We gotta head out. Anything you need before we leave here?"

"No, not really," he answered.

"You positive?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. What are we doing today?"

"Looks like we're going to see an old friend of mine," Dean signed and pressed the call button on his phone. After 4 rings a disgruntled Garth answered, sounding out of breath.

"Yeah, what?"

"Uh, Garth? That you?"

"Yeah who else would it be? Where were you last night?" his voice sounding accusing as he continued to pant.

"Uh, what did I miss last night?" Dean was unsure of where this conversation was going. Garth was a very confused individual.

"My car broke down, man! Totally blew a casket or some crap!" Dean pulled the phone away from his ear when Garth's voice peaked as he shouted about how useless his vehicle was.

"Okay okay we're on our way, calm down. Where are you?"

Garth's stopped shouting and caught his breath. "Side of the damn road. 40 miles up the road from the international parkway on interstate 635."

"Alrighty we just went through Arkansas so we're not too far away. See you soon, Garth," Dean hung up, hung his head and turned the ignition sideways. The engine roared to life and he looked over at Castiel who was yawning again, his arms above his head. Dean grinned and looked away, his mood infinitely better as he realised his best friend was with him again. He honestly couldn't believe it.

* * *

"Dean," Castiel said, turning his head from the window to look at Dean who was singing along with the radio. He clicked it off and looked back at Cas, his expression thoughtful.

"Uh yeah?"

"Why did you remember me all this time?" Cas titled his head to the side, his eyes unwavering as he stared contentedly at Castiel.

"I uh, I suppose it's because no one ever really replaced you, yknow? After you left I didn't really have anyone… so, yeah. I guess that'd be why," Dean tried to avoid eye contact, which thankfully was easy since he was driving.

"Why didn't you have anyone else, Dean?" Castiel sounded sincere, his voice somehow softer.

Dean shifted, his eyes glancing between the road and to his side where Castiel was still watching him. "I wasn't overly popular, Castiel," came Dean's cold reply. He didn't want to talk about his school years that Castiel wasn't around to help him.

"I see. I wish I could have stayed with you, Dean."

Dean felt his stomach lift at these words, fighting a smile that he could feel building up.

"How do you know you would have wanted that back then? Maybe you couldn't behave been more glad to be rid of me, for all you know, Cas," Dean tried to keep things from getting to touchy with his goofy smile and offhand tone of speaking.

"I just feel like you would have been my best friend, too, Dean."

Silence followed as they sat quietly thinking about what the other had said, but it wasn't long until Dean's thoughts came back to rest on the murder suspicions. He obviously doesn't know about it but should I be the one to tell him? What if he doesn't believe me and goes to the police to catch me out on it? What if he gets arrested? No. It's been 6 years. The true offender _must_ have been caught by now. He should be in the clear, I mean, 6 years is more than long enough to find a murder suspect that isn't even hiding. Isn't it?

Dean decided not to tell Cas for fear of upsetting him. Castiel could never kill anyone and so there was no reason to upset him with something that no longer concerned either of them.

"So. How's life been with Anthony and Marianne?" Dean asked, grinning as he looked over at Cas.

"Oh it's been good I guess. I mean, I have nothing to compare it to so I can't really give an accurate response. But I help out with the animals and such when Anthony needs my assistance," he ended his sentence with a slight nod of his head, now looking back towards the road. "So how about you? What have you been up to these past years?"

"I uh. I lost my dad. Couple years after you left. Been living with a family friend ever since. Working for him, yknow; fixing cars and such. He runs his own business. My brother Sam still goes to school. I'm proud of him… he's gonna be a lawyer," Dean smiled to himself, thinking about Sam and despite his horrible start in life without a mother and then without a father, he's done pretty damn well for himself.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me, Dean." Castiel looked back at Dean who refused to take his eyes off the road. No chick flick moments was a motto Dean lived by.

"Yeah well, wasn't your fault, Cas. Something things just happen."

Things went quiet and Dean put the radio back on until they finally after hours of driving, found Garth, asleep in the front seat of his beaten up van, shoes on the dashboard, radio playing some stupid song from the 90's.

Dean grabbed Garth's boot and shook it until he was awake and swearing. He laughed as Garth tried to compose himself.

"Where the hell do you even live anymore, Garth?" Dean asked, still chuckling.

"Not far from here. I just wanted to buy some bread but this stupid piece of crap broke down." Garth kicked the tire and he swore again, now hopping up and down cradling his foot.

Dean laughed at his expense and called a local road side assistance company whose number he found on a brochure in the glove box of Garth's van. Soon enough after paying about 100 bucks, Cas and Dean were back in the Impala, following a tow truck containing a very irritable driver and an annoying Garth.

The radio was off and Dean was still musing over Garth's injured foot when Castiel turned to him.

"I'm glad you found me again, Dean."


End file.
